The Reason Behind the Smile
by lizaD
Summary: Charlie unexpectedly gets to spend some brotherly bonding time with Don.
1. Chapter 1

The Reason Behind the Smile

A/N: This piece of brotherly moments has been with me since the last snow storm of 2016. During which I had a mini Numb3rs marathon. I held on to it and then decided to let it go. Enjoy (I hope). Thank you to my beta Waikiki23. (Chapter 1/5).

Disclaimer: I do not own anything Numb3rs related. Well maybe the DVD's but that's it. I swear.

 **Chapter 1**

For over a year Professor Charles Eppes had engaged in a one-man mission to persuade the current Committee Chair of the Mathematics Department to retitle his "The Art of Counting" undergraduate course. All Charlie wanted was for the course to bear a far less "Easy A" sounding name. He had inherited the course after his much older predecessor (and originator of the course) died in his sleep. Charlie had initially been told that a new professor would be hired in a matter "of weeks." At the start of the second semester Charlie gave up waiting to be replaced and claimed the course as his own.

Charlie had revamped the course's lackluster syllabus. The barely attended course under his tutelage became a class that incoming students fought tooth and nail over in order to grab one of its limited seats. Charlie had taken a subpar course and made it exceptional. The Professor honestly felt that his simple request should have been honored months ago.

Dissatisfied with what he had just read; Charlie deleted the latest email sent from the Chair of the Math Department. The author of the brief message declared in bold face type that "indisputably and unequivocally there would be no changes made to #101M The Art of Counting in the universities catalogue, registration material, printed or visual material pertaining to said course." Having kept all his requests to the Department Chair professional in nature, Charlie felt hugely disrespected. He angrily declared the senior administrator "a pretentious paper pusher."

Larry, seated on the opposite side of his friend's paper strewn desk, looked up from the heavy file on his lap and tactfully suggested that perhaps Charlie had already wasted far too much intellectual energy attempting to move and unmovable object. The pragmatic physicist took no umbrage to the dark smoldering look the younger man aimed his way. It was a typical reaction seeing how Charlie has always worn his heart on his sleeve. Professor Fleinhardt had watched Charlie Eppes evolve from an introverted boy genius who often got lost in the simplistic beauty of his numbers to an exceptional teacher and an idealistic young man who hoped that sharing his extraordinary talent with the FBI would help right some of the world's wrongs.

Right now one of the world's wrongs, at least in Charlie's eyes, currently held the title of Department Chair.

Larry closed the bulging file that required his immediate attention and tried again to reason with his visibly upset friend. "Charles there comes a time in every seemingly unending battle where one simply has to acknowledge the fact that they have done all they could to fight the good fight." He held up his hand to silence his disenchanted looking colleague. "I truly believe that this is such a moment. Please tell me that you will give serious consideration to putting an end to this time consuming year-long disagreement with Malcolm Livery Dupree."

The older man waited for the giggle that always escaped from the mathematician's mouth whenever Charlie heard the Chair's full name. The delightful (certainly to Larry though definitely not to the Chair) habit began on the first day of the Chair's tenure when Mildred Finch introduced her replacement and asked everyone present to welcome Malcolm Lively Dupree as the newest member of the CalSci family. Charlie, as luck would have it, happened to be standing right next to, Mildred Finch, the outgoing chair and tried without success to suppress a giggle. The sound of Charlie's amusement was picked up on the open mic as it was passed over to the newest Chair of the Math Department. The engaging sound floated over the heads of the gathered faculty member and several thoroughly bored audience members (despite their best intentions) added their own chuckles and snickers and the combined sounds seemed to fill every inch of the open courtyard.

Malcolm Dupree made it clear to anyone who would listen that he believed that Charlie had deliberately ruined his ceremony due to a case of jealousy.

It took everything in Larry not to laugh at the cherished memory.

"Charlie," Larry shook his head slightly and returned to the present. "Perhaps if you would simply stop laughing at the poor man's name…"

"Oh come on Larry!" The amused looking younger man interrupted. "Don't tell me that you don't see linen suits, straw hats, porch swings and mint julips whenever you hear that name."

"Charlie while many on this campus continue to find your habit charming, you have to agree that it has not helped you create a cohesive working relationship with Dr. Dupree." Larry knew better than to repeat Dupree's full name again.

Larry conceded that he was not going to be successful at getting his favorite mathematician to refocus his attention back on their joint research project anytime soon. That hope ended the moment Charlie started complaining about Dupree and his email.

"Seriously Flienhardt!" Charlie started to complain. "You want me to concede defeat to that rumor monger. The same person who spread that outrageous lie that I expect that one day the math buildings will be renamed "The Eppes Complex." Charlie stood hands on hips and waited for his oldest friend and mentor to see the error of his way.

"Charles, my dearest friend, we've been over this at least a thousand times this year." Larry knew the mathematician's reply before the younger man even opened his mouth

"Actually Larry we have discussed this subject exactly eighty six times not a thousand." Charlie replied as if he were stating a universally known fact. He plopped his body down into his well-worn leather office chair.

"It felt like a thousand times." Larry mumbled to the file folder still balanced on his lap.

The room fell into an uneasy silence as Charlie stared off into a far corner of his office while Larry absent-mindlessly flipped through some papers. The physicist looked up now and observed an intent look make its way onto his colleague's face.

It was a good two minutes before Larry heard Charlie speak again.

"I'm going to do it!" Charlie excitedly shouted.

"Do what?" A suddenly worried Larry inquired.

"I'm going to inform the Dean and The Board of Trustees that I'm ready to take on the responsibilities of the Chair position. I'm going to replace Dupree once his contract expires on December 27, 2016." The sparkle in the mathematician's expressive eyes illuminated the fact that as far as Charlie was concerned his future appointment was a done deal. The Board of Trustees had long considered him the "heir apparent" for the Chair position but Charlie had repeatedly refused year after year to even entertain the idea despite also being offered a constantly growing list of incentives.

Charlie had another amazing thought. There was nothing stopping the Board from voting to oust Dupree, pay off the remainder of the good doctor's contract, and announce that that their very own world-renown mathematician would become his replacement. Charlie had a big grin on his face as he looked across the desk for words of congratulations.

The physicist, however, opted instead to impart some stellar words of wisdom on his overly confident colleague.

"You know Charles I think at this juncture it would be best to remember that true power "attracts the worst and corrupts the best."

It took Charlie a nanosecond to realize that Larry was less than over-joyed with his announcement. He watched as the older man rose from his chair and headed for the office door.

"Oh come on Larry. It could be my stepping stone to the Presidency of the United States." Charlie joking informed the retreating form.

Larry turned back to look at the bemused younger man and offered one more pearl of wisdom. "The greatest power is often simple patience." Without another word Larry headed out of the cluttered office. As he closed the office door Larry heard Charlie call out again.

"Well then if that's how you really feel Larry I'm taking your name off my short list of future running mate. Your name was right behind Don's. Okay then no potential Vice Presidential perks for you my friend."

Larry smiled. He knew from Charlie's sarcastic remark that the young man would eventually come to see that he was right. There was no way a mind as great as Charles Edward Eppes would ever want to become a pretentious paper pusher.

"I bid you adieu future President Eppes." Larry called over his shoulder. The sound of Charlie's laughter accompanied him down the hallway.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do not own anything associated with the CBS drama (except the DVD's).

A/N: Chapter 2 of 5. Reviews welcomed. Thank you to my beta Waikiki23.

 **Chapter 2**

After a long day of teaching and Larry's preaching; a beleaguered Charlie returned home to find not a single car in his driveway. It was a rare occurrence akin to that of the passing of Hailey's Comet. He loved his family dearly, however, that did not keep Charlie from wishing that he could have the house to himself a little more. Tonight, apparently his wish had been granted and Charlie whistled all the way up to his front door.

Once inside the spacious house; Charlie was greeted with the golden sound of silence.

Alan Eppes was not puttering around the kitchen putting the finishing touches on a meal that Charlie had not planned on eating just yet. Don had not swooped in, sorted through Charlie's mail, raided his frig or claimed the wide screen TV for yet another "must watch" sporting event.

The happy homeowner shut the door behind him and rejoiced in his good fortune.

After flipping on a light switch and making sure he had locked the front door, Charlie dropped his heavy messenger bag under the communal coat rack. He bent down and removed a massive pile of papers and upon straightening let out an exaggerated groan. Charlie laughed; suddenly realizing that he sounded just like his father did whenever the senior Eppes stood up from his favorite chair by the fireplace. A noise coming from upstairs diverted Charlie's attention. He cautiously stopped at the bottom of the stairs. The creaking sound, Charlie reasoned, was just his house making typical old house noises.

Charlie placed the hefty stack of papers in the middle of the dining room table right next to another pile he had deposited there last night. He pulled out a chair, slowly sat down and sighed. He was headed toward a whole new level of overworked. The tired man grabbed a stapled packet from the top of the first paper mountain and unenthusiastically scanned the first expression on the sheet. The professor was soon beaming with pride and proclaimed to the empty chairs around the dining room table, "That's exactly what I've been talking about." He picked up his favorite red ink pen, gave it three habitual clicks and continued to review the exam.

Charlie remembered how at first he had dreaded the very thought of having to instruct a classroom full of nervous freshmen. That feeling of dread, however, had been replaced by a sense of pride at having been able to instill in his students a genuine appreciation for the elegant beauty found in sequences, series and foundations.

At the start of each semester of "The Art of Counting" Charlie discussed in great detail the course's syllabus. He made it a point to explain that while the course sounded rather simplistic; it was anything but simple. The course dealt with enumerative combinatorics: an area of combinatorics that dealt with the number of ways that certain patterns can be formed.

The professor could always spot the two or three students in every class who had registered for the class based solely on its misleading title and had obviously skipped out on reading the course description. Charlie always blamed Malcolm Dupree for the fact that by the end of the first day of his "The Art of Counting" class he would find these same students standing outside his office with drop class forms in their hands.

The number loving mathematician had begun to make a dent in the first pile of papers, when his empty stomach began to loudly growl in protest. Charlie knew if he put down his pen, any headway he had hoped to achieve would surely be lost and with it his rare free weekend.

He had made plans to take Amita up the coast to a romantic out of the way bed and breakfast that she had discovered on some couples travel site. She had mentioned the fact that they should visit the bed and breakfast on their next break five times over the course of three weeks. Every time Amita mentioned the idea, Charlie pretended to focus his attention on something else. He hoped that when he pulled off this surprise, it would leave Amita speechless. They both had a lot on their plates lately and needed time away to just enjoy each other's company.

Thirty minutes later Charlie was not only hungry but thirsty too. He reluctantly pushed back his chair and headed for the kitchen.

There was a fluorescent orange note stuck on the refrigerator door. In his father's distinctive handwriting Charlie was reminded that a) it was his turn to fill the refrigerator with live sustaining food and b) that Alan would be meeting a friend after work and lastly c) Charlie would have to be really creative with the leftovers in the refrigerator when he prepared his own dinner.

Charlie wondered if his father was getting together with the same woman that Alan had been out with at least twice now. When he happened to mention Alan's latest date to Don (over a quick lunch time call), his brother had joked that Charlie obviously had not paid attention the other night when Alan announced that on Friday night he was meeting "a very good friend" at O'Malley's for dinner.

The whole absent-minded professor routine was really getting old. Charlie listened. In fact, there were plenty of conversations (both past and present) that he had overheard in which the topic of discussion was Charlie's "distinctiveness." Conversations that always left Charlie feeling like he was some sort of freakish specimen whose brain might just one day end up pickled in a lab jar for future dissection and study.

In the refrigerator, Charlie found a beer to quench his thirst but nothing that tantalized his taste buds. He pulled on the handle of the freezer door and held out hope that it still held within its depth the frozen personal pizza he had stashed there several weeks ago. A grumbling Charlie came to the conclusion that either Don had poached his pizza or his father, a fanatic when it came to food freshness, had tossed it out. Charlie wound up with two frozen waffles as his meal choice.

When the pair of waffles popped up from the toaster all golden brown; a hungry Charlie did not even bother looking for a plate. He simply wrapped them in a napkin, grabbed his beer, and made his way to the lounge chair on the back patio.

He had allotted himself ten minutes for a meal break. After which Charlie would get back to grading the remainder of stacked papers and then record all of the results.

Charlie settled into an overstuffed cushioned lounge chair. He had recently replaced the faded outdated patio furniture. Charlie had been excited on the day the set had been delivered. He was proud of the fact that he had picked out all the pieces on his own. When Alan had come home that night, Charlie had burgers ready to grill. He had also invited Don over for the great unveiling. When the burgers were done he had eagerly called both men to come join him on the patio.

When Alan had spied the new furniture the look of annoyance on the older man's face was hard for Charlie to overlook. After some major coaching Charlie finally managed to get Alan to sit down and watched in dismay as his father actually tried to make it seem like the chairs Charlie had spent hours researching were downright uncomfortable. Charlie watched Alan as the man shifted his weight and then leaned to and fro. Alan then made it seem as if it getting up and out of the chair was an Olympic event. He attempted to switch to another chair but Don stopped Alan's chair hopping antics when he jokingly yelled, "Hey Goldilocks pick a seat already! My freaking burger is getting cold."

After some awkward conversation; Don helped smooth their father's ruffled feathers when he pointed out that while the old set held some great family memories (Charlie had completely overlooked the fact that the old set had been picked out by his Mom) the truth was it was nothing sort of an aluminum and canvas death trap just waiting to maim or kill its first victim.

Before Don left that night Charlie pulled his unyielding brother into a heartfelt bear hug.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Charlie burrowed further down into his oh so inviting chair and eagerly devoured the first waffle. He washed the remnants of the bland, dry, semi-warm waffle down with a nice healthy swig of ice-cold beer.

The lack of activity started to get to Charlie. He checked his watch and realized that he had over shot his ten minute time out by fifteen minutes.

"Back to work." Charlie declared as he lifted the near empty beer bottle to his lips and took one last swig.

"You still on the clock?"

The unexpected sound of his older brother's voice in the semi-darkness startled Charlie. So much so, that he choked mid-swallow. He shot forward into an upright sitting position and the remainder of his dinner slipped from the chair's armrest and landed on the patio's brick work.

When Charlie started to hack, Don reached behind the younger man's back and helpfully gave him several heavy handed whacks.

After Charlie finally managed to catch a steady breath, he dramatically shouted, "What the hell Don! I almost choked!"

Don grinned as he took possession of the chair next to his melodramatic sibling.

"Hey I called for you in the house. It's not my fault you didn't hear me." Don produced his own bottle of beer. "I see we shared the same thought tonight." He leaned over and tapped his bottle against Charlie's empty bottle.

"Wow!" The younger man drew back. "That's some mighty feminine smelling aftershave you threw on." Charlie wrinkled his nose at the super flowery scent that clung to his older sibling's t-shirt. Charlie recognized the scent. It was Robin's signature perfume.

"Cute." Don shot back.

"You just noticed that about me." Charlie replied drolly.

Don watched as a big goofy smile spread across his younger brother's face.

"Why the hell are you smiling at me like some demented jack-o-lantern?" Don studied Charlie as if it might be possible that his brainiac brother was in the process of losing a couple billion brain cells.

"You're in a good mood." Charlie said simply.

"And that's enough to make you go all goofy in the face?" Don countered.

"Well yeah!" an earnest looking Charlie answered. When his brother continued to stare Charlie proceeded cautiously. "I mean. It's all good right?" The older man's pointed stare was starting to make Charlie feel uneasy. "Um you know because now things are okay again with…uh I assumed you were in a good mood well you know because Robin had forgiven you." Charlie stopped stammering and found a sudden deep interest in the listed ingredients on the back of his bottle of beer.

"For what Charlie?" A stern sounding Don inquired. He knew it was taking every ounce of self-control in Charlie not to keep from launching himself out of his chair.

"For what?" Charlie repeated to the suddenly hard to grasp brown bottle in his hand. The anxious man attempted to subversively wipe his hands on his jeans while being held in place by the stare of the FBI's best interrogator

"Yeah Charlie what did I do that you seem to feel I need Robin's forgiveness?" Don knew it was wrong to torment his sibling but man it felt so good to watch Mr. Gotta Know Everyone's Business squirm.

"Um." Charlie hedged. "Well." Charlie could not stay still any longer and shifted in his seat. He always felt jumpy whenever Don went into interrogation mode. You would think he was that same boundary breaking kid who repeatedly got nailed sneaking into Don's forbidden bedroom.

"Um what?" Don feigned annoyance.

"You told Robin the other night that she shouldn't entertain the idea of going to Coachella because she would likely pass out." Charlie took a quick sideward glance at his quick to anger sibling.

"Because she will forget to drink enough water to stay fully hydrated not because I think she's too old. Robin knows what I meant." Don took a sip of his beer and waited for his words to sink in.

"Oh!" Charlie perked up. "So she's no longer ..."

"Mad at me? No." Don answered. "We're good." She was definitely smiling when he left her place this morning.

"That's good." Charlie started smiling all over again. He hoped that his brother would eventually settle into a long term relationship with Robin.

"So where's Amita tonight?" Don was surprised when he pulled up to the house and her car was not in the driveway; especially on a Friday night. Don really wanted his brother to make it work with Amita. Their relationship resembled a light switch; it was flipped on for a bit and then flipped off for far longer.

"She's having a celebratory dinner with her old roommate who recently got engaged." Charlie answered. He wrapped his arms across his chest as if he were suddenly cold.

Don caught his brother's subconscious reaction to the word that created unease in the heart of every man in a long-term relationship and knew that the clock was ticking. Don wisely chose to steer clear of the landmine of a subject.

"So is she wearing the yellow dress?" He saw his brother flinch and continued his line of questioning. "You know the dress you told her made her look like a ripe lemon." Whenever Don thought of that moment; he broke into laughter.

"I was trying to make the point that when she wears that dress she looks all tangy and flavorful." Charlie paused briefly after seeing a smirk form on his older brother's face. "You know… like a real lemon." It was just Charlie's luck that his this cringe worthy moment occurred not only in the presence of Don but Robin too. He was pretty sure that was the moment Amita and Robin formed an alliance.

"You know Amita harpooned her steak right after you said the word ripe." Don helpfully recalled.

"I am fully aware of that fact." Charlie knew his brother was just warming up.

"I may not be a profiler but it appeared to me that she was pretending it was you." A grinning Don bounded off the chair and headed toward the house. He needed something to eat seeing how breakfast was coffee and lunch was…coffee. "I still can't believe you made such a stupid comment knowing that she had a steak knife in her hand." Don laughed all the way up to the screen door.

Charlie called after his retreating sibling. "My comment wasn't stupid." He heard the sound of laughter as Don disappeared into the house.

Less than ten minutes later, a disappointed looking Don was headed back toward the patio.

He settled back into the chair he had just vacated. "Are you aware that you have nothing that would remotely qualify as a good meal left in your refrigerator?"

The absence of prepared and stored meals (via the cooking machine one Alan Eppes) in the refrigerator was not a common occurrence. Obviously it was a visual message meant for Charlie. Don just didn't know why he had to suffer along with his inattentive sibling.

"It was my turn to make the Whole Foods run." Charlie gave his brother shrug of indifference. "I'll get to it." He wondered how long it would be before Alan found his neatly folded reminder note stuck to one of the two remaining eggs in the refrigerator's egg tray.

It was becoming clear to Charlie that his hope of getting back to grading papers was fading fast. He thought maybe if he suggested ordering pizza he would be able to lure Don back into the house and then hand him the TV remote.

"Man I'm so hungry I've lost my train of thought." Don announced.

"Good," Charlie thought to himself.

"What were we talking about?" The older man snapped his fingers. "Oh yeah your injudicious comment."

"And he's back." Charlie mumbled. He sat up in his chair. "That's what I meant when I said that my comment wasn't stupid. It was just an injudicious mistake."

Don arched an eyebrow. Granted, there were times when Charlie flew past him on his way to creating another mathematical miracle and Don ended up choking on residual chalk dust _but_ Don could run circles around Charlie when it came to the p's and q's of the English language.

The math giant had an Achilles' heel: the correct usage of the English language. Don knew that Charlie knew that he knew his weakness and that alone made tormenting Charlie so much more enjoyable.

" Right!" Don replied in a slow drawl. If Charlie actually thought even for a minute that Don believed he knew what the word meant then the man definitely deserved the ribbing headed his way.

Charlie did not like the smug expression plastered on his older brother's face.

"So then you can give me the definition of the word." Don asked his uneasy looking sibling

Charlie hated this game.

"Tick Tock Chuck." The older man taunted. The amusement Don felt was clearly evident in his voice. He made a great show of looking at his watch.

"I'm thinking." Charlie replied gruffly.

Don made the sound of a buzzer. "Time's up Professor." He announced happily. "Let me help." He relished the unhappy look his brother threw his way. "Wait maybe I should spell it for you first - IN-JU-DI-CIOUS."

Charlie _really_ _really_ hated this game.

"First. It's an adjective." Don said in his best primary teacher voice. "And it's definition; showing a lack of judgement."

"You didn't give me an adequate amount of time to respond." The younger man hotly protested.

"You were stalling." Don replied with a smile in his voice.

"Whatever." Charlie said dismissively.

A silent truce formed between the two men.

When Don felt his brother had sulked long enough, he turned to address Charlie. However, Charlie was not in silent snit mode but rather simply staring off into space. Don waited several seconds and then reached over and gave his zoned out sibling's chair a not so gentle shake.

"What?" Charlie wondered aloud. He had been following an eloquent expression as it played out in his head and then it vanished. It took him a second or two to realize that his brother had caused him to lose his chain of thought.

"What!" Charlie said pointedly. He focused his attention back on Don.

"I was just sitting here wondering what got those bushy brows of yours in such a twist." Don asked innocently. He already knew the answer to his question. Don could always tell when the numbers had captured Charlie's attention.

Charlie always felt like he had been caught doing something unusually weird whenever Don interrupted his thought process; especially when Don gave him that "Earth to Charlie" look. Charlie covered up his lingering annoyance with a smile.

"These," Charlie stated (as he used his right hand to make a sweeping motion across his forehead) "I'll have you know are manly brows which I inherited from Grandpop Eppes."

"Sorry to burst your bubble bro but you got those fuzzy appendages from Aunt Ida." Don asserted. He threw in a shrug of indifference just for added measure. "Right family tree wrong branch." Don then pointed to his own dark eyebrows. "These babies come from dear old dad."

Without thinking of the consequences; Charlie reached down and picked up his now hardened dinner offering and threw the disc-like object right at his smiling sibling's face. The waffle hit Don right between his eyes. Charlie thought he actually heard a pinging noise after contact was made. The Frisbee/waffle sailed past Charlie and landed somewhere on the grass.

Charlie should have instantaneously jumped off his chair and bolted for the house. However, the utterly stunned look that appeared on his older brother's face kept Charlie rooted in his chair and doubled over in a fit of laughter.

"What the hell Charlie?" A shocked Don managed to sputter. He reached over and shoved the laughing hyena next to him. He watched with delight as the smaller man tumbled off his lounge chair. Charlie emitted a squeak of surprise when he tumbled onto the grass and landed on his back.

Don broke into a fit of uncontrollable laughter.

Charlie scrambled back onto his chair in time to see tears of laughter streaming down his brother's cheeks.

"Jerk!" Charlie hotly exclaimed. He shook his head in an attempt to shake the blades of newly cut grass out of his hair.

"Moron!" Don countered as he wiped tears from his face.

Alan and his date stood on the back step and took in the comedy routine taking place on the patio.

"So that's the tough as nails FBI Special Agent and the complex world renowned mathematician?" a female voice inquired. Her slightly reedy sounding voice soon filled the backyard.

"Let's skip the introductions tonight. We'll do it another time." Alan replied as he quickly pulled open the screen door and tried to usher his "very good friend" back inside the house.

Charlie and Don both looked at each other.

"Crap I told him I would be working late tonight." Charlie squinted toward the back door.

"Ah poor Dad thought he was getting…"

"Seriously!" Charlie protested a tad too loudly. "How old are you?"

"Oh grow up Charlie." Don volleyed back. "Dad's not 90. He still needs…"

"Stop!" Charlie held up a hand out in warning.

"Companionship." The amused older man replied. "What is her name again?"

"Bev," Charlie answered. He tried to see if there were still two figures on the back step but his brother's big fat head kept blocking his view.

"No Bev was the pastry chef. It's Bea." Don countered. "No wait that was the yoga instructor."

"It's a pattern!" Charlie quickly exclaimed. "Our old man's got a thing for women with three letters to their name." Charlie grinned after Don tried but failed to contain a snort of laughter.

"Not Bea. Not Bev!" the female voice again filled the backyard. "My name is Bri!"

The sound of the screen door being opened and then closed filled the air.

Charlie attempted to smother the sound of his laughter with his hands. Don, however, just went and let it fly.

"I swear if you two idiots are still out here when I get back I'm going to bury you both by the koi pond." Alan Eppes bellowed at his chuckling children.

When Alan slammed the screen door shut Charlie and Don flinched.

Charlie perfectly mimicked his older brother's voice. "Bev was the pastry chef. It's Bea. No wait that was the yoga instructor."

"It's a pattern!" Don announced trying to match his brother's earlier enthusiasm. "Our old man's got a thing for women with three letters to their name."

For several seconds the only sound heard in the backyard came from the chirping of crickets.

"Charlie." A suddenly serious sounding Don announced.

"What?" Charlie looked intently at his older brother thinking Don had an idea that would help get them out of the crater-sized hole they had just created.

"You're a dead man." Don replied as a matter-of-fact. He slipped off his chair in mid-sentence.

"Why?" Charlie tried to grab the hem of the fleeing man's black t-shirt but missed.

"He's your roomie not mine." Don called out over his shoulder as he headed quickly for the back door.

Charlie was not about to face the wrath of Alan Eppes alone. He went after his brother as if his very life depended on catching him because it did. Charlie reached out, grabbed a handful of t-shirt, and stopped Don just as the older man's hand touched the handle of the screen door.

"If I go you go." Charlie tightened his grip.

"Get off!" Don barked. He attempted to break the death hold Charlie had on the back of his shirt. "I swear Charlie if you don't let go…"

The sound of the front door opening instantly got the two combatant's attention and the tug-of-war ceased. Don and Charlie heard the front door close. They then heard their father calling for them from inside the house.

"Wow he still sounds angry." Charlie stated unnecessarily.

"Yeah well wouldn't you be?" Don responded. "Think about it. Third date. Empty house. Chilled wine." Don finally freed his shirt from his brother's slackened grip. He waited for the lightbulb to go on in Charlie's head.

"Oh crap!" Charlie all but shouted. He successfully ducked an incoming swat to his head.

The sound of heavy footsteps on the wooden flooring of the foyer had both men stepping back in unison from the screen door.

"He's headed this way." Charlie all but screeched.

Don was about to announce "every man for themselves" until he realized that his brother appeared to be incapable of any type of movement.

"Dammit Charlie! Move!" Don latched onto his sibling's elbow and literally hurled a surprised looking Charlie around the corner of the house. Once there Don used one arm to pin him against the outer wall of the living room. Don cautiously peeped into the bay window.

"Now what?" Charlie whispered. He pushed his brother's arm away.

"When he goes to search the upstairs, we head for my car." Don quietly instructed.

"What if he checks the front of the…"

"He checks the kitchen, looks out the back door, and then he'll go to the living room and then heads upstairs. If he doesn't find what he's looking for he'll come down and look around out front and then the backyard again." Don replied as he continued to peer into the window.

"And you know this how?" Charlie inquired with real interest. He was a real fan of patterns.

"If I got home after curfew I would wait outside until I heard him head for the kitchen. Then I'd bolt upstairs. Once in a while my timing was off and I would have to stop outside your bedroom door." Don explained.

"My door?" Charlie pondered aloud. "Wouldn't it would have made more sense to just go straight to your room."

Don watched as Alan Eppes visually scanned the living room. He waved a hand to quiet his chatty brother. Charlie took great umbrage to the hand just millimeters from his nose and swatted it away.

Don continued his trip down memory lane. "Back then Dad moved a hell of a lot faster. So if I ran out of time I'd make like I had just shut your door and tell him stuff like I thought I heard you having a bad dream or moving around and decided to check on you. It was always at the point when Dad questioned me as to why I was still dressed in the clothes I left the house in that Mom would appear. She'd tell the both of us to be quiet. Then she'd chase Dad back to bed and Mom would give me the look that said she was one to me." Don smiled in the semi-darkness. "She would kiss me good night and whisper in my ear "try a little harder next time to get home on time."

"You used me as a cover!" an indignant Charlie whispered his protest.

Don answered Charlie's complaint with a smile. He moved away from the window.

"Let's go. He's headed for the staircase." Don silently moved past the window, signaled for Charlie to follow as he headed for the front of the house. By the time Don reached his car he had already pulled his keys out.

"Where are we going?" Charlie asked. He took up a post near passenger side door.

"We'll go grab some dinner." Don replied before he took one more look at the front door.

"But I already ate." Charlie griped. "And I have to finish grading…"

"A waffle is not dinner in anyone's book." Don interrupted the younger man's complaining. "Look when I unlock these doors you better move your ass or I swear I'll leave you here." He watched Charlie opened his mouth and then just as quickly closed it. Don threw him a "get ready" look, hit the car lock and yelled "Get in!"

Charlie had no doubt that Don meant what he said about leaving him behind and got his ass into the passenger seat.

"Hold on!" Don did not wait to see if his sibling heard his instructions. A seasoned pro he pulled the car out of the drive way and hit the street in a time that would have made a NASCAR driver proud.

Charlie did not pry his fingers from the dashboard until they were halfway down the block and finally cruising at a normal rate of speed.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Alan Eppes laughed from the doorway as he watched the taillights of his oldest son's car disappear from view.

"Are they gone?" a female voice called down from the top of the stairs.

"Yep," Alan answered as he shut the front door. He smiled up at the long-legged woman. "I'd say we just bought ourselves about two hours."

"Well then let's not waste a minute of it then." She replied with a wicked smile.

Alan Eppes all but ran up the twenty odd steps. At the top of the landing, he wrapped an arm around her waist and steered her down the hallway.

"Now I see why you told me to park across the street and not in the driveway."

"I didn't want anything in the way that might impede their getaway." Alan turned the door knob of his bedroom door.

"And you don't feel bad about chasing your poor sons out of the house?" Bri asked only half in jest.

Alan had felt a small twinge of guilt until he remembered all the times he was made to kill time at O'Malley's during Don's college breaks. A couple days before the weekend would roll around his son would start dropping hints that he would like to hang out with an old high school friend or a new college friend (98% of the time the "friend" turned out to be female) on Friday or Saturday night. Alan being the "good" father would wind up eating alone at some local restaurant or take in a movie if he could wrestle up an old buddy to keep him company.

Sometimes Alan got so tired of being in the way that he would fly out to Princeton to spend a weekend with Margaret and Charlie. However, that too had its drawbacks with Alan often heading home to California with the sinking feeling that he had become nothing more than a visiting relative in Charlie's life. It certainly did not help to observe how much Charlie admired his mentor Professor Larry Fleinhardt. Of course, Alan understood now that his worry that the physicist would take his place in Charlie's life was a case of "irrational jealousy."

In a case of déjà vu Alan now had to repeat the process of making himself scarce when Charlie started seeing Amita on a more serious basis.

"Trust me I've felt worse." Alan stepped aside to let her pass.

Several blocks away Don and Charlie were walking toward the entrance of the neighborhood's most popular watering hole; each man taking turns joking about the dismal ending to their father's date.

Charlie stopped to pull his vibrating phone from the back pocket of his faded and well-worn jeans. He smiled after noting that the text was from Amita. It was a short message in which she wrote about how she wished she had blown off the dinner and had instead spent the night with him. She also wanted to know if he had any plans for the morning. Charlie quickly typed back that his only plan consisted of showing up her front door in the morning with coffee and blueberry muffins. He put his phone away and hurried to catch up with Don who now stood on one of the painted steps that lead up to the entrance of O'Malley's.

Don jammed his cell phone into the back pocket of his black jeans and looked out at the bustling parking lot.

Charlie stopped just short of the steps and opened his mouth to speak.

"Yes it was work and no I'm not taking off." Don again answered his brother's unspoken questions.

Charlie knew this was usually the point where he would ask if there was anything he could do to help. However, this time the mathematician's lips remained sealed. Charlie loved nothing more than to jump in and help his brother (and his team) but this time he just couldn't rearrange his plans. He needed to show Amita that he could be spontaneous.

Don was a little surprised by the absence of his brother's usual offer of assistance though he tried to not to let it show. Even during times when Charlie was super busy at CalSci (and would let Don know about it in no uncertain terms), his brother was a pro at multi-tasking and always managed to find a way to get it all done. The agent knew that if the reason behind his sibling's silence was related to work then Charlie definitely would have said so by now. In Charlie's world no one worked harder than he did. Sometimes Don knew that to be true but there were also times when he honestly felt that Charlie just liked to appear put upon.

Don decided to take a more direct route and hope for the best.

"Hey Charlie I was wondering if you could maybe spare a couple of hours tomorrow morning. I have this case that has just blown up and I could really use your help." Don had vowed at Charlie's front door not to venture into any work related subjects because he did not want Charlie thinking that he had stopped by just to pick his brain.

"I wish I could Don but I made plans that I cannot change. I'm driving Amita to Monterey Bay and we're going to stay at the Main Street Inn. We'll probably be there until late Sunday afternoon." Charlie threw his brother an apologetic look as he joined him on the small porch.

"That's good Charlie." Don (despite his initial letdown) was genuinely happy to hear this news. He would never admit it but Don shared his father's worry that if Charlie did not step up his game that Amita would eventually grow discouraged at the snail's pace of their relationship. "You two deserve a little getaway."

Charlie felt horrible. He had seen the disappointment Don had tried to hide. It certainly did not help that his older brother was standing beside him being "happy" for him.

"Honestly Don if I wasn't trying to show Amita that I can be spontaneous I would rearrange my plans." Charlie watched as a wide smile broke out on his older brother's face.

"You? Spontaneous!" The amused man replied with laughter in his voice. It was only last week that Larry told Don a story (while he waited in Charlie's office for the busy professor to finish collecting some more data) about how at the start of Charlie's CalSci career he had mapped out a five year plan that covered all the academic milestones he had planned on achieving. Larry proudly announced that it had taken Charlie only three years to not only meet but surpass those goals. Don remembered looking at Charlie and seeing how uncomfortable his brother looked at having been made the topic of conversation. He also recalled how Charlie had put a halt to Larry's proud crowing with a "that was a long time ago" declaration and without another word went back to work at his beloved chalkboards.

Don was brought out of his thoughts by the sound of his brother's deep toned voice.

"Oh right like your middle name is impulsive." Charlie replied sarcastically.

"Touche' Chuck." Don had to give Charlie the win if only for the guy's snappy comeback. "Come on let's go in."

Don walked toward the bar's decorative six panel wooden front door. He always hated having to rope Charlie in especially when his brother had made plans but in all honesty there was no one Don trusted more or who could produce results like CalSci's favorite mathematician.

"What about Monday around eleven?" Charlie spoke to his brother's back. "I could come in and work until four but I really cannot stay any longer than that; I have to attend a symposium at six o'clock." He briefly wondered if Amita would mind stopping at Whole Foods on the way home Sunday. Charlie quickly nixed the idea when he pictured the look that would cross her face when he broached the subject. Charlie knew there would be another brightly colored note left on the refrigerator door when he got home on Sunday.

"Hey buddy whatever time you can give me is always appreciated." Don replied earnestly.

"Can we leave here by 10:30? I still have stacks of papers to grade and record." Charlie tried to put on his game face on but failed. He would somehow find a way to get everything done; it's what all the people around him have come to expect.

"Sure Charlie." Don willing agreed. "Tell you what to save time we'll eat at the bar." He saw an apprehensive look filter across his brother's face. "I swear," Don held up his right hand as if taking an oath, "if there's a game on and it's tied in the bottom of the ninth I promise we will still leave here by 10:30."

Unconvinced based on Don's previous patterns; a frowning Charlie followed his sports loving sibling into the bar's jam packed foyer.

Don was a man on a mission and immediately headed in the direction of O'Malley's equally crowded bar. He saw a young couple, with drinks in hand, vacate two seats. "Follow me Charlie." Don ordered. "We'll grab those two seats." He pointed over the head of a small statured female and dismissed the annoyed look the lumbering man standing next to her threw his way. "

Don assumed that Charlie was directly behind him and with the agility of an athlete, he ducked and weaved his way around a boisterous crowd of soccer fanatics.

Charlie tried to follow but got cut off by a congealed mob of dressed to impress young women intent on taking a group selfie. Every time he attempted to go in a forward motion, Charlie found himself bouncing off one irritated person after another. One giant redwood actually pushed him back toward another gaggle of selfie takers. Charlie felt like a salmon fighting to get upstream.

Don had made it to the two vacant seats just before an oddly mixed duo tried to stake their own claim. The barely legal buxom brunette whispered in her decades older male companion's wrinkled ear and she pointed to two newly vacated seats in the middle of the bar. As the May and way-past-December couple walked away, the young woman turned and threw Don a mega-watt smile.

Don missed the woman's attempt at gaining his attention because he had turned to scan the crowd for his directionally challenged brother. He could not help but think "only Charlie could get lost in a crowd of no more than forty people." He was about to pull out his cellphone and type out a "where the hell are you?" text message.

"I bet that happens a lot." A sultry female voice interrupted Don's hunt for Charlie. He turned to see that the voice perfectly matched the attractive auburn-haired bartender.

"What me nearly body checking an elderly person?" Don answered jokingly. He gave the woman a friendly smile.

"I swear that old geezer's in here every Friday night with a different escort oh sorry I mean date (she threw in some air quotes). No I meant women trying to gain your attention. It must happen to you on a daily basis." She flashed the good looking man seated in front of her a very welcoming smile. The bartender quickly mixed a drink and then slid it to the complaining out of shape middle-aged man seated next to Don. The man received no dazzling smile.

Don watched the exchange and grabbed a handful of beer nuts from a nearby bowl. He chucked a couple in his mouth in an attempt to ward off any further conversation it worked but then it also prevented him from warning an advancing Charlie about the female barracuda behind the bar.

"Oh yeah it happens to him all the time." Charlie answered helpfully as if the world needed to hear this piece of unnecessary information. He smiled over at Don who responded with a dagger-like stare. This totally threw Charlie seeing how only a few seconds ago his brother seemed quite happy to see him.

When Charlie reached over to grab some beer nuts Don slid the bowl out of his big-mouthed brother's reach.

"Hey! Another cute one. Must be my lucky night." The bartender grinned as she watched the smaller man turn and look behind him.

Charlie blushed when he realized that the woman had been talking about him.

"So what can I get for you two gentlemen?" The young woman hardly ever got to use that term during her shift; seeing how 80% of the males who saddled up to the bar ultimately tried to hit on her as soon as their wives, fiancés or girlfriends were conveniently out of earshot range.

"I'm Charlotte." She offered her deeply tanned hand. Charlotte knew she would once again get reamed out by her manager for "being overly" friendly. However, given the rare opportunity of having an intelligent conversation with not one but two good looking men made Charlotte ever so willing to forget her manager's ridiculous rule.

This time Don gave her a nod of acknowledgment instead of a smile. Charlie, thinking his brother was being oddly rude, leaned over the counter of the bar and shook the woman's multi-ringed hand.

"I'm Charlie and this is my brother Don." Charlie cordially volunteered.

Don looked at his brother's engaging smile and genuinely sincere expression and wondered why he had stopped using the nickname Charlie had despised the most: Captain Oblivious because it still fit Charlie like a glove.

Don was a seasoned pro when it came to the L.A. bar scene and knew without a doubt that Charlotte was in the process of weighing her options.

"Charlie and Don." Charlotte answered in what could only be categorized as a cat-like purr.

The woman's tone almost made Don smile again. It also left him wondering if Charlie was the milk and he was the cream or perhaps it was vice versa.

Charlie had taken a slight step back from the bar. "Maybe" Don noted, "he's not as oblivious as I thought after all."

Charlotte was definitely drawn to the older man's dark and moody aura. However, she was also attracted to the younger one's light and open aura. Charlotte made her decision; she leaned against the bar rail and turned her attention toward the dark and moody one. She couldn't help herself; there was just something about bad boys that rocked her world.

"So what brings you here on our busiest night of the week?" Charlotte inquired of Don.

Charlie watched as the bartender turned away from him. The not so subtle brushoff, however, created no bad feelings. High school was a thousand years ago and Charlie no longer felt the crushing blow of rejection that had come with the realization that his female classmates (all a good three to four years older) befriended him simply to get closer Don.

Now in his pre-Robin days, Don would have already had Charlotte's number and a time to meet up already lined up. When he caught sight of Charlie pretending to be totally interested in an international soccer match Don flashed back to his thoughtless teenage self who would go out of his way to rub his dating success in Charlie's (barely) teenage face.

Don reached out and took hold of his younger brother's forearm and gave it a light shake. "Hey!"

"Yeah?" Charlie answered. He instantly took his attention away from the blaring over-sized mounted television. The mathematician had spent the five minutes calculating which team had the overall skill set needed to achieve victory.

"The kitchen's backed up." Don fibbed. "Do you want to grab a burger at "In N Out." down the street?"

"Okay. Sure" Charlie answered over the din of the television.

Don thought he could actually feel the heat coming off Charlotte's burning stare.

Charlie took a quick glance in Charlotte's direction. He had no doubt that all her attention toward Don was going to get her nowhere. He just wasn't sure how she would react to getting shut down. It went better than Charlie had anticipated, as an obviously pissed off Charlotte poured a draft and walked it over to an elderly patron. However, she placed the glass down so roughly on the counter that some of the beer flowed over the side of the glass.

"We should probably go while she's busy." Charlie wisely stated. He nodded his head in Charlotte's direction just in case his brother needed a visual aid.

"Right." Don grinned at his oh so helpful sibling. "Let's get out of here." Don threw some money on the bar. He slung an arm around Charlie's shoulders and propelled him in the direction of the now far less crowded foyer.

"Hey how solid are you on that curfew time?" The older man joked.

Charlie stopped dead in his tracks.

"I'm kidding." Don pushed his brother forward.

When Charlie passed the now seated redwood; he kept his distance but shot the man a dark look. Don who was following close behind realized that something must have occurred between the two men while he was busy fending off Charlotte's advances. As he moved past the much bigger man's table; Don threw the man a look that read, "You got lucky. This time."

The petite blonde woman seated across from the Norwegian giant; failed to notice the exchange between her date and Don. She was too busy tracking Charlie's movements.

Don caught the woman's eye and gave her a wink. She did her best not to look embarrassed before she attacked her salad.

Don had to hustle after Charlie who already made it to the doorway.

Back at the bar, a surprised Charlotte picked up her sizable tip. She sighed unhappily as she made her way toward a gaggle of hooting and hollering baseball watching twenty-something at the far end of the bar.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N:** Thank you to those who left reviews or who hit the alert or favorite button. This is the last chapter. Enjoy! Big thank you to my beta: Waikiki23

 **Chapter 5**

As they walked in the parking lot, Charlie's natural curiosity got the better of him and he began peppering Don for details regarding his latest case.

Don was never one to go into the specifics of a case, if he felt there were too many sets of civilian ears hovering around. So he gave his persistent sibling the barest amount of details as they weaved their way around incoming O'Malley customers in the jammed parking lot.

Charlie managed to piece together from the slim information Don gave him that the case was one that had recently been reported in every newspaper and news channel. It was a big case; one that involved the recently indicted Andrew Hubber the CEO of WorldCom; the man many in the investment world had once crowned a hedge fund mastermind. The mastermind, however, now stood accused of embezzling nearly $11 billion dollars.

It was going to take every ounce of Charlie's willpower not to even think about the case during his Monterey trip. The mathematician was already thinking of the possible ways in which he might be able to uncover the missing funds.

Charlie walked right past Don and only stopped moving when he heard his brother utter an expletive.

"What's wrong?" Charlie anxiously looked around almost expecting to be attacked by an out of control Charlotte.

"Dad conned us!" Don sharply announced. "He never even left the house." The surprised man chomped furiously on the piece of gum in his mouth.

"What are you talking about?" Charlie replied. "He threatened us and then slammed the door and…"

"I never heard him start up his car." Don looked over at his younger brother. "Did you?"

"Holy crap! We got played!" A stunned Charlie proclaimed.

"Like a freakin violin." Don replied with a hint of awe in his voice. He pulled out his car keys and hit the unlock button.

Charlie checked his watch, frowned at the numbers, and then addressed his older brother over the hood of the SUV. "I guess then that it's safe to drop me back at the house."

"You want me to drop you off?" Don tried not sound as letdown as he felt by his brother's request.

"Well you know I'm sure the coast is clear by now." The younger man theorized. "I mean let's face it Dad's no spring chicken. He's probably asleep by now and I was thinking that you probably want to head over to Robin's." Charlie answered honestly.

"See there Charlie that's your biggest problem - you think too much." Don replied only half-joking. He pulled open the driver's side door. "I promised you a meal so let's go bro. I'm starving." He disappeared into the interior of the SUV.

Charlie smiled broadly as he settled in and adjusted his seatbelt.

Don expertly backed the SUV out of for what any other driver would be considered a particularly tight spot. Don managed to get to the exit just as the light turned green and soon joined a long line of Friday night drivers.

It took twice as long to reach the popular burger joint and once there Don had to circle the parking lot twice before managing to bag a spot.

"Do you think Dad's "friend" stayed over?" Charlie looked over at his brother for some words of wisdom but Don only gave him a non-committal shrug. It was not a helpful answer. Charlie continued fretting in the front seat. "I mean Dad and I never really talked about this kind of situation happening. I guess I should have anticipated something like this occurring you know now that Dad's dating." Charlie waited for Don to offer some sage advice except all his brother did was to continue to chew on his gum. The younger man continued to vent. "This could get really awkward." Charlie caught the smirk on sibling's face. "What if I run into her going in or out of the bathroom in the morning? What am I supposed to say to her?"

Don was going to offer the advice to just say "hi" but he couldn't get a word in edgewise.

"And what if I come downstairs and they're sitting there at the table having breakfast. Do I introduce myself?" Don opened his mouth to respond but Charlie continued to wonder aloud. "What if it gets serious and she's over a lot. Do I have to set ground rules?" Charlie held his stomach. "I think I'm getting an ulcer."

Don pulled the keys from the ignition. He looked over at his apprehensive looking sibling. "Relax Chuck. First, it's not an ulcer. You're just hungry. Second, (Don paused for dramatic effect) you're worrying over a booty call." The rattled look on his brother's face caused Don to break into a fit of laughter.

"Don't EVER utter the words Dad and booty call in the same sentence to me ever again." Charlie demanded. When Don continued to laugh at his expense, Charlie opened the car door and hopped out. It never dawned on Charlie that when he purchased the house from Alan that there would ever come a time when as the homeowner Charlie would need to set up rules in regards to his dad's potential overnight guests. The very idea of having to have that conversation had Charlie feeling queasy. He did not care what Dr. Don thought; Charlie knew he was on the fast track to ulcer city.

A still chuckling Don Eppes had to scramble out of his seatbelt and then sprint from the SUV in order to catch up to his fast moving sibling.

"Oh come on Chucks. Wait up! I promise no more talk about Dad." Don held up both hands in a sign of surrender.

"Chucks?" Charlie stopped. He tried unsuccessfully to suppress a smile. Don had uttered many variations of Charlie's given name over the years – this was a brand new one.

The older man shrugged his shoulders. "It was a spur-of-the-moment" thing." Don replied. He threw an arm around his brother's shoulders as they headed toward the restaurant's framed glass doors. "I actually kind of like it."

"Imagine that." Charlie playfully complained as he followed his brother into the popular eatery. The younger man would never admit it but for all his grumbling over the years; Charlie loved every one of the nickname's Don had bestowed upon him.

Now whenever his older brother called him Chuck, Chuckie, Chuckster, Chuckles and now apparently Chucks, it signified something that Charlie had always wanted from his older brother: a true friendship.

The sound of Don's familiar "I'm over here" whistle broke Charlie out of his reverie. He forgot all about how tired he was, or the stack of papers that waited for him, or that he had to pack, or that he still needed to place an online order to Whole Foods, and then get Alan to agree to wait around for it to be delivered. Charlie forgot all those annoying details when he joined Don in a corner booth.

The restaurant had a steady flow of equally hungry customers and Charlie realized that there was no way he was getting home anytime soon. Honestly he could have cared less.

Some things were just more important: like hanging out with your older brother on a Friday night.


End file.
